


The One Where They're Both Captured

by thestanceyg



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Kidnapping, Not Beta Read, This is a first draft only draft, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 20:11:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16332683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestanceyg/pseuds/thestanceyg
Summary: When Spencer turns her away from the door saying they broke up a week ago, Darcy is flabbergasted until she realizes that something bigger is happening.This story includes torture. Please do not read if descriptions of torture bother you.





	The One Where They're Both Captured

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dresupi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/gifts).



> For Dresupi who I promised a story tonight as motivation. All errors my own as I did not have this beta read because I promised this up before I went to bed.

“You need to leave,” he said through the small sliver of opened door.

Darcy looked at the one eye and lock of hair that she could see, trying to understand what he had just said.

He must have seen the confusion on her face before he said more firmly. “I told you to leave. We’re over. I’ve been done with you for a week, and this constant, pathetic attempt at getting me to change my mind has grown tired. I didn’t answer your texts or even the trite letter you wrote me, so why would you think show up on my doorstep would work?”

Tears welled in her eyes as he practically slammed the door the two inches, the harsh thunk of the lock almost being drowned out by the pounding of blood in her ears. She didn’t even realize she had run from the door until she was a block away, wiping tears off her blotchy cheeks in her reflection of a shop window. She took a deep breath and thought back over his words, and her blood ran cold.

She had reacted to him calling her names and being so cold, but the words themselves made no sense. They hadn’t broken up. In fact, they had both been excited that for once her visit wouldn’t result in her sitting in his apartment hoping he would be back from a case soon.

He had been trying to get her away from the apartment in the most efficient way possible, and hurting her certainly would do that. She took a shaky but calming breath and pulled out her phone.

“Why are you calling me?” Penelope chirped in greeting. “Shouldn’t you be connected at the lips to the boy wonder right about now?”

“Should be,” Darcy agreed. 

“What’s wrong?” Penelope said, her voice suddenly serious. “I don’t want to kill him, but I will.”

“Actually,” Darcy said, her voice catching a little, “I think he’s in trouble. And if he isn’t….” She didn’t finish the thought. If he wasn’t in trouble she didn’t know what to make of the scene at all.

“He will be,” Penelope finished. “Now tell me everything.”

There wasn’t much to tell, and it wasn’t long before Penelope had promised to meet her there. But as Darcy waited, she realized that there was no way Spencer would have been so specific about his words without purpose.

“Son of a bitch,” she said standing. She looked at her watch. She definitely had time to check this out before Penelope got there. He had said, “letter you wrote me.” She hadn’t written a letter, so he must have wanted her to look in his mailbox. She made her way back to Spencer’s building, going to the mail room and pulling out her keys. She had just opened his mailbox when she heard someone behind her. She turned to look, but saw nothing as her head exploded in pain and the world went dark.

* * *

 

Darcy awoke with a splitting headache and groaned a little as she opened her eyes and cringed a bit at the twinging in her neck since she apparently had been passed out with her head tilted down. Her lips were dry, and as she ran her tongue over them, she tasted blood. She went to touch them to see where the blood had come from, but she realized she was restrained. She felt the fear tighten in her chest as she realized her wrists and forearms were tied down to the arms of a chair, as were her ankles and calves on the legs of the chair. She lifted her head quickly and instantly regretted the motion. In a chair across from her, similarly tied was Spencer. His eyes were on her, clearly cataloging everything wrong with her. 

“Spencer,” she croaked.

“Darcy,” he said, his voice a mix of relief and fear. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she immediately replied. 

“I see you’re awake,” a new voice said, amused. “Excellent timing as always, Miss Lewis.”

She turned to look into the face of a man she had never seen before. He didn’t appear to be particularly cruel. In fact he looked like a normal man you might pass on the street and think nothing of. Not the sort of man that had you checking your surroundings or contemplating crossing the street.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” she asked, trying to show no fear for the man she assumed had knocked her unconscious.

“I knew you would be coy,” the man said with a smile that made her stomach drop. Now she saw that je ne sais quoi that screamed dangerous criminal. He caressed her cheek with  the point of a nasty looking knife. “But you’re much prettier than I gave him credit for.”

Darcy tried not to flinch away from the blade, and instead tried to look at her surroundings. They clearly weren’t in Spencer’s building anymore. This space was small and all concrete. Aside from the chairs they were in, there was little else in the room. He bent over to sniff her hair, and she couldn’t help be recoil at that.

The man didn’t seem to care. Instead he walked over to Spencer and bent over to look him in the eye. “You’re going to behave, right? You remember the little chat we had?” She couldn’t see Spencer’s face, but she saw the way his hands balled into tight fists. The man tapped him on the top of his head with the butt of the knife. “Well?” he demanded.

“Yes,” he ground out, and Darcy wondered what had happened while she had been passed out.

The man pulled the knife next to Spencer’s wrist and flicked, releasing first one arm and then the other. Spencer rubbed at his wrists a bit, and she realized his legs were not tied like hers. Spencer stayed seated, his eyes locked on their captor who was flipping the knife in his hand. After a few flips he held the knife out, handle first, to Spencer. Spencer looked at it, but made no move to take it.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” the man said. “I thought you said you would behave.” Spencer stared a beat longer before taking the knife from him. The man backed away, now looking eagerly between the two of them. Spencer stayed in his chair, his own eyes darting between Darcy and the man. The man pulled a rod from somewhere, and Darcy looked at it, unsure what it was until the end sparked with electricity. “Time to have some fun,” he said with a short laugh. “Stand up,” he commanded.

Spencer stood, and Darcy noticed his legs were shaking. She wondered what had happened to him before she had been grabbed.

“Sit on her lap,” the man said, and when Spencer didn’t immediately move, he zapped him once with the prod. Spencer screamed and his legs buckled. “Stand UP!” the man bellowed. Spencer clenched his jaw and did as commanded. “That’s better,” the man said, as though he were addressing a small child. “Now go sit on her lap.”

This time Spencer didn’t hesitate, and came to sit on her lap, gingerly lowering himself onto her. “Are you okay?”he asked in a coarse whisper, and she wasn’t sure if he was asking in general or if he meant was she comfortable with the position he was in.

“I’m fine,” she said, regardless of the truth to either possible question.

“Kiss her,” the man commanded. While normally that was exactly what Darcy would be doing by this point in her visit, it made her sick to think about him watching them. “Don’t be shy,” the man added, the prod sparking.

Spencer searched her face before closing his lips over hers in a soft, chaste kiss. His lips were slightly chapped and she tried to focus on the steadiness of his breath and not the eyes she could feel on them.

“Oh  _ come on _ ,” the man whined. “Like you mean it, please.”

Darcy rolled her lips between her teeth as Spencer pulled away from her at the sound of the voice. “Do it,” Darcy said. “Pretend he’s not there, and do it.” She didn’t say that she was worried that they might die here and she wanted a few more happy memories before that could happen.

Spencer gave a short nod and then his lips were on hers again, this time more insistent. His tongue slipped between her lips and she wished that her hands were free. She loved running them through his hair when they kissed, and she thought the action might help keep her mind from the man watching them. Spencer must have needed the distraction too because he carefully cradled the back of her head with the hand holding the knife as the other traced small circles on her side. She relaxed into his touch, though she was aware of just how stiff her body was, tied to the chair like it was. 

“Much better,” the man said, his words almost a leer. “Now then, stand back up for me, Dr. Reid.”

Spencer tilted his forehead against hers for just a moment before removing his hand from her head and standing.

“Cut off her shirt.”

Spencer gawked at the man for a moment. “But it’s her favorite,” he said defensively, and Darcy almost laughed at how adorable he was.

“Cut. It.” the man ordered, the prod sparking again. Spencer looked at her, and she nodded. 

“It’s just a shirt, Spence,” she encouraged. “You can help me pick out a new one,” she added, leaving off that they might not ever have that chance.

He grimaced, but moved forward, carefully holding the shirt away from her so as not to nick her while cutting the fabric. It took five cuts before the shirt finally was pulled from her skin. She didn’t need to look to know the man was leering at the fancy lace bra she had on. Spencer’s face was enough as he took in the new lingerie that she had bought to surprise him. It was a bold blue that she knew looked great with her coloring, and if you looked close enough, the delicate lace actually had a Tardis design to it. He pulled his eyes from her chest, and she could see the desire and anger in his eyes. She was mad too. This was supposed to be for him only.

“Cut her,” the man ordered.

This shocked Spencer so much that he nearly dropped the knife while Darcy sharply sucked in her breath. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”

The man sighed and jabbed Spencer with the rod. He cried out and doubled over, falling to the ground.

“I expected much better from you,” the man said, disappointment dripping from his voice. “If you don’t cut her, I will.”

Spencer pushed himself up onto his hands, pulling his knees underneath him. “No,” Spencer said. His voice was quiet but firm. He grabbed the knife tightly and lashed out for the man’s leg, but missed as he easily sidestepped. He shocked Spencer again, and he convulsed on the ground. The man bent and picked up the knife Spencer had dropped and looked at the blade while Darcy cried in earnest. 

When Spencer had recovered enough to look up at the man with hate in his eyes, the man looked at Darcy. “What about you, Miss Lewis? Would you rather I cut you or him?”

Her eyes darted between the men before landing on Spencer. “Please,” she said to him, trying to blink the last of the tears from her eyes. “Please Spencer. Do it.”

He looked anguished at the thought, but gingerly stood up. “You can do it, Spencer,” she encouraged. “I’ll be fine. You know I can handle it.”

He looked utterly wrecked at the idea.

“She asked for you,” the man said, holding out the knife, “though I doubt you’re capable.”

“Look at me, dearest,” she pleaded. “Look only at me. You can do this. I love you, and you can do this.”

Spencer kept his eyes on her as he took the knife and then stepped closer to her. She could tell he was still wavering.

“I need you to do this, Spoon.” She hoped the use of the silly nickname from when they met would help push him along.

“Okay Bear,” he agreed, gripping the knife more firmly. “Okay,” he said, reassuring himself. He came closer and then held the point of the knife to her bicep. “You okay?” he asked, pressing the tip in a bit more.

“I am. And don’t cheap out,” she said, still looking him in the eye. “Do it and don’t stop until it’s done.”

He nodded and then swiftly pulled the blade down her length of her arm. Darcy bit on her tongue to keep from screaming, her eyes never leaving his face. She could feel the warmth of the blood spilling onto her arm which felt like there was a line of fire burning down it.

“Oh, very good,” the man said, giddy. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Eyes on me,” Darcy bit out, still trying not to cry from the pain.

“Now her chest,” the man said gleefully. “Your initials this time. In a heart!”

“Look at me, Spoon,” she pleaded when he started to round onto the man. “I can handle it, and so can you.”

Tears were rolling down his cheeks, but she didn’t think he knew he was crying. “It will be fine,” she said. “I’ll just have you in my heart always now,” she added.

He shakily moved closer to her, his hand wavering in the air above her left breast. “Right there, Spoon,” she said. “That’s good.”

His chin quivered as she felt the sharp bite of the knife in her skin as he started. She had no idea how far he had gotten when she heard what must have been a door behind her slide open.

“FBI!” a man yelled. “Put your hands in the air.” Spencer dropped the knife into her lap as the man grabbed Spencer and held him tightly as a shield.

“Don’t come any closer,” he said.

Darcy could feel her adrenaline starting to crash as she started to hyperventilate.

“I mean it,” the man said, and she assumed that the agents had started to move closer.  “I’ll kill him.”

“I don’t think you will,” a female voice said.

“Oh is that so?” the an jeered at her.

“It is,” a voice said behind him, and it was then Darcy realized that there must have been a second door. The man released Spencer as the agent roughly cuffed him. Spencer collapsed on the ground, and Darcy could feel herself becoming hysterical.

“Help him! Please, please, help him.”

“I’m okay, Darcy,” he said. “I think my ankle’s broken, but I’m okay.”

There was a blonde woman at her side sliding a knife under the ropes to release her, and as soon as she was free, she fell to the ground, grabbing for Spencer. He held her tight with one arm, the other hand in her hair, running his hands over her head in a soothing fashion. “I’ve got you Bear. You’re fine,” he whispered against her forehead.

“So, uh, when were you going to tell us you had a girlfriend?” a man asked.

“Now, I guess,” Spencer said.

* * *

“Stop fussing!” Darcy chastised as he checked the bandage on her arm again.

“I can’t help it,” he said. “I did that. The least I can do is make sure you’re okay.”

“You didn’t do this,” she said for the hundredth time. “A homicidal man did this, using you as an instrument.”

“I guess,” he agreed.

“Besides, if you hadn’t placed the tracking device beacon number in your mailbox, we might not have made it out of there.”

“I should have just told someone I thought I was being followed.”

“But then we wouldn’t have known where you were when he moved you.”

“But he might not have nabbed you then.”

Darcy paused, thinking about how much he was blaming himself for actions that were not his fault. “He knew my name. I think I was always on his radar,” she said. “It doesn’t matter. It happened and we came out all right.”

“With some unexpected sick leave to ride out together,” he said, looking at his booted foot.

“I’m not happy you’re hurt, but I’ll admit I’m happy you’re mine for the rest of the week.”

“For always,” he corrected gently. “I love you,” he whispered into her hair, pulling her against him as he turned on the movie.

“I love you too,” she agreed, "for always."


End file.
